


5 Christmas Gifts

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aprons, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas Sweaters, Clothed Sex, Cooking, Daisy Being Corny and Phil Being Sentimental, Domestic Fluff, Engagement, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Future Fic, Lola (Agents of SHIELD), Mentions of Mack/Elena, Mentions of May/Piper, Motivational Posters, Mugs, Older Man/Younger Woman, Porn with Feelings, Secret Warriors (Marvel), Semi-Clothed Sex, nude cooking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Five consecutive Christmases with Daisy and Phil and they gifts they get each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts), [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [BrilliantlyHorrid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/gifts), [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts), [Pippypaleopath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippypaleopath/gifts), [Skyson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/gifts), [nausicaa_of_phaeacia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/gifts), [AvatarQuake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvatarQuake/gifts), [hamsterfactor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamsterfactor/gifts).



> Inspired by [this post](http://lastcenturykindagirl.tumblr.com/post/153797152139/fic-where-daisy-and-coulson-gift-each-other-cute) on Tumblr, this fic is my early Holiday gift to my tiny fandom.

**Year 1.**

"Oh Phil." 

Daisy's plaintive tone worries Coulson. Did he mess up? Does she hate the mug he bought for her? Then she's throwing her arms around him, her mug still clutched in her hand, so he decides that maybe she doesn't hate it after all.

"I love it, but I kinda feel like you've missed the point," she tells him when she pulls back and holds the mug in between them.

He frowns. "How did I miss the point?" he asks, looking down at it too.

"We agreed to only get each other corny gifts," she says, and points at his mug, with the words 'Rise & Shine, Cupcake' on it – the word cupcake is in frosted pink.

"That is corny," he agrees, smiling. Only Daisy would choose to call him 'cupcake', he thinks fondly.

"Exactly. _That_ is corny. This – " She waves the mug, which reads ' In case you ever foolishly forget, I'm never not thinking of you…'. "This isn't corny at all, it's sincere and thoughtful, and – " She cuts herself off, then puts the mug down beside his before grabbing his face and kissing him pretty emphatically. He happily goes with it. Kissing Daisy is never something he wouldn't want to do: sometimes he even wants to kiss her at really embarrassing or inappropriate moments. Although they've been together for three years, they're still not that big on public displays of affection, and occasionally he has to restrain himself pretty hard until they're out of sight before he can kiss her in relief at her survival from whatever peril she's been battling most recently.

When she pulls back, her eyes look wet, and he realises that she's making out with him to stop herself from crying – all because he's failed at being corny. It's kind of embarrassing because he _is_ corny – they both are, thankfully. But apparently he doesn't know how to be corny when it comes to giving Daisy Christmas gifts.

"I'll try to do better next year," he promises, and she chuckles, then kisses him again.

"You'd better, mister." She pulls herself out of his arms, then grabs their new mugs. "Let's get some coffee and then you can make me Christmas breakfast by way of penance."

He chuckles. He'd have made her breakfast anyway, penance or not – he loves making her breakfast. He loves cooking for her, in fact. 

"Deal," he agrees, and follows her from their quarters to the kitchen. 

He likes this new base: it's separate from the main one at the Playground, and it's home to Daisy's Secret Warriors, the team of mostly Inhuman people with whom she works. There are a few humans around too – he and Mack are both there – in part because they're dating Inhumans – and there are a double handful of other human 'support' staff: medics, mechanics, and engineers. 

The others have all gone away for the Christmas break; he and Daisy had both stayed because they've nowhere else to be, but also because someone needs to be on hand, just in case anything comes up that requires their particular expertise. Mack and Elena have gone to his brother's place, although he knows they'll be going to Elena's family's afterwards. Joey and his non-SHIELD boyfriend are away, too. Even May's away – she's taken Piper to meet her mother, and although part of him wishes he could be a fly on the wall for that meeting, he's mostly pleased to be here alone with Daisy.

"I think you should start teaching me how to cook," Daisy says, settling herself on the counter alongside where he's beginning to make pancakes for breakfast. "Nothing fancy, mind – I don't have patience for fancy, but simple stuff."

"I'd like that," he says, very happily. He's sure he'll enjoy teaching Daisy to cook, and he suspects she knows more than she lets on, but that's okay.

"Good." She leans over and kisses him, sloppily, her mouth tasting of mint toothpaste and coffee.

"First rule is: Don't distract the cook, or the food gets ruined," he tells her, and she giggles. 

"Duly noted." She leans back away from him, and he pauses to adjust himself, because it really does only take a sloppy kiss from Daisy for him to get hard, then he goes back to the pancakes. Making out (or actual kitchen sex) can happen after breakfast, he decides. He smirks at her, and she grins back, and he's sure she knows what he's thinking – she usually does.

"Merry Christmas, Daisy."

"Merry Christmas, Phil."

**Year 2**

"Oh my God! I can't wear that!" Coulson exclaims, mildly appalled by the sentiment on his brand new apron.

"Of course you can, Phil," Daisy says firmly. She shakes it out, then flips the top part over his head, before moving behind him and fastening the tie at his back. Then she comes around in front of him and grabs her cell phone. She leans her face against his, holding the cell at arm's length.

"Say cheese!" she commands, and he dutifully says cheese, just as she turns her head and plants a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek. She giggles at his horrified expression, then shows him the screen of her cell where she's clearly obeying the instruction on the apron she bought for him: Keep Calm and Kiss the Cook.

It's a mid blue colour – the same shade as Captain America's suit, now he thinks about it, and he doubts that's a coincidence, because Daisy really is that thorough. The words are in white, aside from the 2 Os in 'Cook' which are actually red hearts. Below the words Keep Calm there's a picture of a fork crossed over a spatula, and he reckons the apron must be custom designed. 

"If I see anyone else kissing you, though, there's gonna be trouble," she tells him, her tone stern. She waggles her fingers, no doubt meaning that she'll vibrate whoever kisses him onto their ass should he allow such a familiarity.

"Don't worry, I'll only wear it when I'm cooking with you," he says, and she smirks. 

"Good." 

He holds out her own Christmas gift – a similarly sized and shaped flat package, he wonders if she can guess that he got her an apron too.

She tears the paper off impatiently, then stares at the words on the front of the apron. "God, Phil," she says, sounding choked with emotion. "You really are a romantic fool, aren't you?"

He looks down at the pale blue apron – it's a slightly lighter shade than his own, and the words on it are also in white, but there are daisies in place of the Os. It says 'Cooking with love provides food for the soul'.

He realises that for the second year in a row he's totally failed the 'corny gifts only' requirement. "Sorry," he whispers.

She shakes her head, then holds it out to him, and he unfolds it. He can see she's biting her bottom lip, and there's a sheen of moisture in her eyes, so he quickly puts the apron on her, then pulls her into his arms. 

"I'm the worst kind of boyfriend," he admits.

"You're the worst at corny gifts," she says. "You're not the worst at anything else." She cups his face in both her hands and kisses him, all tongue and teeth, and he can feel himself growing embarrassingly hard.

"Mm," she hums when she releases him. "I think I want to see you in just the apron."

"Daisy!" He's shocked – not by the suggestion, but by how exciting he finds the idea. "Only if you do the same," he says firmly, and she giggles.

"We will have the kitchen to ourselves," she points out, and he grabs her shoulders and pulls her body against his, kissing her and sliding his hands down her back to cup her ass. He tugs on her sweatpants, and they slide down her legs.

"Philip Coulson!" She sounds genuinely shocked, and he smirks at her, pleased at having taken her by surprise. Then she grabs his hips and gets his sweatpants off too. They have to help each other to take the aprons off so they can remove the t-shirts and sweaters they wear in bed in lieu of traditional pyjamas, then they pull their aprons back on. Phil scoops up their clothes, because he doubts she'll want to stay naked in her apron for too long – the kitchen's not usually that warm this early in the morning.

"I kinda want to video this," she tells him, giggling as she hurries to make coffee.

"I didn't know you were into saucy home videos," he says, looking over at her as he opens the fridge.

"I'm not, not really. But this is tempting."

He shakes his head, then takes out the eggs, milk, and butter he wants for making scrambled eggs for their Christmas breakfast.

She comes to join him as he sets everything down on the counter, and he can't help uttering a quiet yelp as her hand snakes beneath his apron to curl around his cock – he's only half hard at the moment, but a few quick, firm strokes from Daisy as she licks at his Adam's apple soon has him rock hard again.

He groans her name, and she grazes her teeth over his throat. "Maybe we should put this to good use before we eat, Phil," she suggests, squeezing his dick, and he is powerless to argue – not that he'd want to argue. He moves away from the counter, guiding her towards the table, and she smirks at him.

"Merry Christmas, Phil."

Merry Christmas, Daisy." 

**Year 3**

By the time of their third Christmas together, Daisy's given up any expectation that Phil will actually give her a corny gift: he's just too much of a hopeless romantic, and while it's a tiny bit frustrating that he can't stick to their agreement, it's also so typical of how thoughtful and sincere the man is. So when she unwraps her soft, squishy parcel (they'd decided on silly Christmas sweaters this year), and finds something that isn't silly, corny, or even Christmassy, she isn't surprised. She does find herself crying though, because only Phil Coulson would give her a mid-grey sweatshirt with a stylised drawing of her upper body wearing her field jacket on it, and the words 'Fight like a girl' emblazoned across her middle. There are 'quake' lines radiating out from her figure, and she's holding a gigantic daisy in her left hand. 

"I'm sorry, Daisy," he whispers, coming to sit beside her on the couch. "I suck at this."

She laughs through her tears. "You suck at the corny gifts bit," she tells him. "You do not suck at being the best boyfriend ever, or at giving me the most amazing gifts."

He offers her a handkerchief. "So you like it, then?" he asks hopefully.

She gives a watery chuckle as she wipes at her eyes. "Yeah, Phil, I like it. No, actually, I love it. It's incredible. Did you draw me?" He nods, blushing adorably. "And I guess the overall design is yours, too?"

"Yeah." His voice is a bit husky, she notices, and he has tears in his eyes.

"C'mere," she says, and wraps her arms around him, grabbing the back of his neck so she can kiss him very emphatically. Making out with Phil is always better than crying, even if they're happy tears.

"You're a dork," she tells him, and he bites his lip, then nods. 

"Yeah. I know."

"A goofball," she says, "And totally adorable, of course."

"Daisy," he says, his voice soft and warm even as he protests.

"Phil," she says, mimicking his tone. "Open your gift."

He obeys after grabbing it off the coffee table. When he sees what it is he gives her a startled look, then grabs her shoulders and pulls her close enough to kiss, quick and hard. "It's gorgeous," he says. "And not at all silly."

"Well it is silly if you know that I refer to you as my 'baby deer', or my 'sad sexy baby deer'," she says.

He chuckles. "Too much Parks and Rec."

"There can never be too much Parks and Rec," she intones, and they both laugh. He brushes his thumb over the robin that's riding on the head of the deer, and she thinks of little Robin Hinton (who's not quite so little these days), whose father Charles Daisy had failed to save from HYDRA four years ago. They see her and Polly Hinton as often as they can, acting as unofficial not-godparents to the little girl – fulfilling Daisy's last promise to the dying man that she would keep an eye on Robin as she grew up in case she turned out to be a potential Inhuman too.

"We should go and see Robin and Polly after Christmas," Phil says.

"I'd like that," she says quietly.

"Good." He pulls off the sweater he's wearing over the t-shirt he wears in bed, then tugs on his new one, and she reaches out to flatten his ruffled hair. He smirks at her, then grabs the hem of her sweater. "You have to wear yours, too," he says, and she laughs softly, then lets him guide the sweater off her. Of course, he's a bit too enthusiastic, and drags her t-shirt off too, baring her breasts.

"Daisy." He sort of groans her name, and she can feel his arousal beginning to build up via his vibrations.

"Phil." She pushes the discarded sweaters and wrapping paper onto the floor, then grabs his shoulders and pulls him towards her as she lets herself fall back onto the couch. They kiss greedily, and she moans into his mouth at the sensation of his sweater on her bare skin; she can feel her nipples tightening beneath the brush of the wool, and she clenches her inner muscles desperately wanting contact. 

Luckily Phil seems to know what she wants without her asking (one of the great things about this man is that he often does know what she wants before she can ask for it), and he snakes his hand under the waistband of her sweatpants, then slides his middle finger down over her sex which is already growing damp with arousal.

She moans some more when he slips his finger into her, then adds a second, and begins to properly fuck her with his fingers. His mouth migrates from her mouth, down her throat to her left breast, and she gasps and bucks her hips when he sucks hard on her nipple. He repeats the treatment with her other breast, his fingers still busy inside her, but it's when he brushes his thumb over her clit that she comes, her back arching up off the couch.

"Fuck, Phil," she says when she has enough breath to speak.

His fingers are still inside her, but unmoving for the moment, although her sex is still throbbing from the force of her orgasm. "Do you want to?" he asks, and it takes her a moment to process the question.

"God, yes," she says breathily, and he smirks, then sits up. He starts to take off his sweater, but she tells him to leave it on. That earns her a raised eyebrow, but he doesn't argue, he just gets her sweatpants off, then ditches his own, before moving his body over hers. 

"Okay?" he asks, cock poised to push into her slick heat.

"Yes," she says, and grabs his hips, tugging him forward.

He grunts as he slides into her, and she moans, then wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls his head down to kiss him.

"Merry Christmas, Daisy," he whispers.

"Merry Christmas, Phil." She kisses him.

**Year 4**

"Why did we agree to motivational desk posters?" wonders Daisy, looking at the gift-wrapped package Coulson's just handed to her.

He shrugs. "I have no idea. I mean, it was your idea, but I don't know what put it into your head."

"Maybe I was drunk at the time. Was I drunk?"

He chuckles and accepts her package. "Not that I recall," he says. "Are you going to go first?"

"No, you should." 

He nods, then begins unwrapping the rectangular frame. He has to turn it the other way once he gets it out of the paper because it's a portrait frame, not a landscape one. "You're my favourite place to go when my mind searches for peace," he reads. The words are black against a background of blue sky and clouds, with a hint of sunshine. He looks up at her. "That's not corny."

She smirks. "I gave up on corny, Phil – I know what an old romantic you are."

He ducks his head, blushing a little. "I'm sorry," he tells her.

"Don't be, Phil," she says, and puts two fingers under his chin, tilting his head up, then leaning in to kiss him. "I've grown to love you being a romantic sap."

"Sap?" 

"Yeah, Phil, you're a sap."

He rolls his eyes and she grins, then begins unwrapping her own frame – it's a bit larger, and is a landscape one. Inside there's a pale green background starred with daisies, and over it are the words 'I realised I was thinking of you, and I began to wonder how long you'd been on my mind. Then it occurred to me: since I met you, you've never left.' 

She looks up, then shakes her head, and he can see she looks like she might cry, so he slides his arms around her and pulls her into a hug. "Why are you so perfect?" she asks, her voice muffled against his neck.

"I'm not," he says immediately. "Not perfect at all, but I try."

"Yes you do." She pulls back to look at him. "I've never had a lover like you."

"Nor have I had one like you," he says, "and I don't mean because you're an Inhuman. You make me want to be a better person, simply by existing."

She blushes, then leans in and kisses him – a sweet and tender kiss that makes his toes curl. "You make me want to be better too," she says once she pulls back. 

He opens his mouth to say something equally sappy, but her stomach gurgles before he can speak, and they both start laughing.

"Let's get some breakfast," he suggests.

"I'll make the pancakes, you do the bacon," she offers, and he nods agreement. Daisy's cooking skills are very nearly a match for his own after two years although she still prefers to let him do the 'fancy' food. Not that he minds – he still loves cooking for her, and on those occasions when he doesn't go out on the field with her and her team, he'll always make sure to have a meal waiting for her, either aboard the Z1 if he's running comms for her from the plane, or at the base if he's remained back there. She still uses up a lot of energy when deploying her powers on the field, so having a good meal post-mission is essential.

They head into the kitchen, and set to work on making breakfast. He still enjoys them having the place to themselves at Christmas, and although Mack and Elena, and May have all invited them to go to theirs for the holiday, he and Daisy always refuse, because there needs to be someone in the base if anything comes up, and since they're the only ones who don't have other family, it makes most sense for them to remain behind. He does wonder, though, what it'd be like to have their own place together – an actual house or apartment of their own where they can shut out SHIELD for a few hours at a time.

"I've got a secret," Daisy says, breaking into his domestic reverie a little later.

"You have?" he asks. He's a little confused because usually when Daisy has a secret, he doesn't find out until she's good and ready to tell him – she's not the sort to tease him over secrets.

"Mm-hmm. It's not my secret, but I can tell you because by the time they come back, it won't be a secret any more."

"By the time who comes back?"

"Mack and Elena. She's going to propose to him today."

"Truly?" he asks, startled, but very pleased and (if he's entirely honest) a tiny bit jealous.

"Truly," she says with a big grin. "She confided to me yesterday morning before they left for Rueben's."

"That's great news." He can't help grinning back at her, pleased for their friends.

"It's about time," Daisy says, a little forcefully. She snorts. "I love Mack, honestly, I do, but I can understand why his turtle speed exasperates Elena."

Coulson chuckles. "Yeah. I presume that's the reason why she's decided to propose, particularly since it's not a leap year."

"Exactly!" She flips the first of the pancakes, and Coulson can't help admiring her technique. "Don't burn that bacon," she says, and he jerks his attention back to the pan, and the slices of bacon therein.

"Sorry," he says. 

She bumps her hip against his. "You were totally daydreaming about the proposal, weren't you?" she teases.

"Not exactly," he says. "I was just wondering what it's like to have someone propose."

"I think it must be nice," she says.

Coulson nods. "Are you going to ring Elena later and beg her for details?"

Daisy snorts. "Nope. I'll wait until she's ready to tell me – she wouldn't thank me for interrupting her special day."

"True," he says.

She leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth, then flips another pancake, and he focuses his attention on the bacon. But as they work together to make their breakfast, he can't help wondering if Daisy would like to get married – or if she'd find the idea too bourgeoisie. Perhaps he'll be able to use Mack and Elena's upcoming wedding (and no, he doesn't doubt Mack'll say yes) as a way of sounding out Daisy's feelings on the matter. He would definitely like to get married to her, if she'd accept such a proposal.

They load up their plates, then carry them across to the kitchen table, then Daisy fetches their mugs of coffee. (They're still using the ones they bought each other the first year they decided to buy corny gifts, and he failed so spectacularly to meet that criteria.)

"Merry Christmas, Phil."

"Merry Christmas, Daisy."

**Year 5**

"Where did you say we were going?" Phil asks as he gets dressed.

"I didn't," Daisy tells him with a smirk. 

He pouts. "So where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, Phil. Try to contain your impatience." She moves to his side, and flattens his hair down after he pulls on his deer and robin sweater. "It'll be worth your while, I promise," she tells him and gives him a long, slow, and very dirty kiss by way of a down-payment.

"Okay," he says. "I trust you."

"I know you do." She grabs her 'Fight Like a Girl' sweatshirt and pulls it on, then smiles at him when he gently pulls her ponytail out from the back. She's finally grown her hair longer after years of having it very short, and while it's extra work, she likes having it long again.

"C'mon," she says, grabbing Lola's keys from the dresser. 

He follows her out of their quarters, through the deserted base, and down to the hangar where their vehicles are parked, Lola in pride of place.

"I'm gonna have to blindfold you, Phil," she tells him, and he raises an eyebrow, then smirks in a way that sends a bolt of pure lust between her legs. "Not like that." Her chiding tone makes him chuckle, and she realises she reacted exactly as he'd expected.

"Perv," she says, and pushes him down into the passenger seat, before pulling a blindfold from her jeans pocket. He sits still as she settles it in place. "See anything?"

"Not a sausage," he says cheerfully.

"Good." She circles the car and climbs into the driver's seat, then buckles up. "We'll be there in about 30 minutes," she tells him. "Here." She places a go-cup of coffee in his hand.

"Thanks, Daisy."

"Welcome." She pulls out of the hangar, hangs a left, then heads across town.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Coulson will admit to being extremely curious about where Daisy's taking him at 7 o'clock on Christmas morning, and why she's taking him anywhere at all on this morning, but he goes with it, certain that she'll reward his patience somehow.

Lola stops and she curls her hand over his forearm. "Leave the blindfold for now, Phil, just for a couple of minutes longer."

"Okay." He waits, hearing her door open and close, then his own door opening before Daisy's hand is on his arm, and she's helping him out Lola. 

"Walk with me," she says, and he follows her up a slight incline, then he hears a door being unlocked, before she guides him across a threshold. "Now you can look," she says, and he feels her tug the blindfold off. 

He blinks a couple of times, then stares around when he realises he's in an unfamiliar hallway of a house that's clearly been decorated for Christmas. He gives her a puzzled look. "Whose place is this?" he asks in a quiet voice, unsure if there's anyone here to disturb.

"Ours," she says, and looks at him nervously.

"Ours?" he repeats.

"Yup. It's a safehouse I bought, back when – " She cuts herself off. "Because we had the Secret Warriors base so close by, I've been renting it out. But the lease came to an end a couple of months ago, and the previous tenants didn't want to renew, so I decided to take it off the books of the agency that's been letting it for me, and to do it up for us. It's our new home," she says.

He can tell he's gazing at her wide-eyed, and he can see she's still nervous about his reaction. "Daisy, that's amazing," he says. "Thank you."

"Come and have a look around," she says. "And if there's anything you want to change, tell me – this is to be _our_ home now."

"I'm sure it's perfect," he says immediately. "You know my tastes as well as your own."

"Still," she says, and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in close and kissing her, because how can he not when she's done this?

He slides his hand into hers, then nods down the hallway. "Show me?"

She grins, and leads the way.

It's not a huge house, but it's very cosy and comfortable – Daisy's obviously put a lot of work into preparing it for them, and there are lots of little homely touches that shout of them as a couple: she's dug his record player out of storage, and it sits in a corner of the sitting room, with his vinyl records neatly shelved nearby, and there's framed photos and pictures scattered about that are meaningful to them – including his old framed blueprint of the Bus, which used to hang in his office aboard that plane, and now hangs behind one of the two desks in the room she tells him is their home office.

The kitchen is done out in pale blue and warm yellow, with lots of the kinds of kitchenware that Coulson favours, and there's a row of herbs in pots on the window ledge, and a bunch of Avengers magnets on the fridge door, which makes him chuckle. 

She saves the master bedroom – their room – until last, and he feels a ridiculous amount of trepidation about seeing it, but when she ushers him through the door, he can only grin: the Queen bed has a Captain America cover on the quilt, and there's a plushie Cap perched between the two sets of pillows.

"You know, I'm not entirely sure I _want_ Steve Rogers watching us, or even to share a bed with him," he says teasingly, and she laughs.

"No, I agree that's not the best idea." She walks over and plucks the plushie from the bed. "I definitely don't wanna share you with him." 

He steps closer to her. "You're the only superhero I want, Daisy," he tells her as sincerely as he can.

"And you're the only human sidekick I want," she says.

He kisses her, quickly, yet tenderly, then says, his voice coming out a little huskily, "In that case then." He produces the small jeweller's box from his jeans pocket, and drops to one knee in front of her. She gasps his name, her right hand coming up to cover her mouth, as he opens the box and says, "Will you marry me, Daisy Johnson?"

"You actually asked me," she says, and he blinks, wondering why she's so surprised – he's been sort of dropping hints ever since Mack and Elena got married in July. 

Then she starts crying, and he gets up from the floor hurriedly, and says, "I'm sorry, Daisy. I didn't mean to make you cry."

She bangs the Cap plushie against his chest and exclaims, "They're happy tears, you dork!"

"Oh! Oh, okay. I mean – is that a 'yes' then?" he asks, hoping he hasn't misread her meaning.

"Phil!" she exclaims, then grabs him, dropping the plushie, unheeded, to the floor before she kisses him very forcefully. "Yes, that's a yes!" 

"Oh good." He's so relieved, and then she starts laughing.

"You didn't really think I'd say 'No', did you?"

"I really hoped you wouldn't," he says, "but I wasn't 100% sure, because you did make some pretty pithy remarks about white weddings and bourgeoisie institutions back in the summer."

She shakes her head, then grabs him and kisses him again. "Show me the ring, then," she demands, and he chuckles, then opens the box again. He shows her the ring, then takes it out and slips it onto her finger.

"You've made an old man very happy," he says.

"Old man my ass," she says with a derisive snort. "I'll show you who's old." She gets his jeans unfastened very quickly, then shoves her hand inside and clasps his cock, which is already half-hard. Then she hooks her leg behind his, twists her hips, and tumbles him onto the bed.

"We do need to christen the new bed," he says, smirking up at her as she scrambles onto the bed beside him.

"Be warned, Phil, we're gonna christen every room in this house before the end of the day."

His eyes go wide in surprise, then he smirks and begins tugging her sweatshirt off. He can't think of a better plan for Christmas Day than having lots and lots of sex in their brand new home, as a newly engaged couple.

"Merry Christmas, Daisy."

"Merry Christmas, Phil."


End file.
